


A Chance Encounter at the IT Desk

by Michelle_A_Emerlind



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blake Has Lots of Porn, Bottom Adam, But They're College Boys, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Humor, M/M, Top Blake, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6519022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle_A_Emerlind/pseuds/Michelle_A_Emerlind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU! Blake has a computer virus and Adam is the hot IT guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chance Encounter at the IT Desk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skarlatha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/gifts).



Ten AM and Blake stands in front of Diggs Hall, clutching his laptop and metaphorically clutching his heart (which is pretty impressive considering that it’s currently lodged in his throat and making breathing a little difficult at the moment) while he stares in horror at the sign saying “307: IT Help Desk.” Oh, fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck.

He looks down at his laptop and frowns, then half-heartedly opens it up and tries to work it again. Nope. Nothing. Nada. The same damn screen keeps popping up over and over, blocking him from doing anything else. “ _Shit_ ,” he mutters under his breath and then closes it, tucks it under his arm and starts walking.

Don’t look too suspicious, he tells himself as he walks across the first floor. And stop blushing. Your damn country skin makes it too easy to blush. He hits the stairs and starts up. Don’t squeak. Maintain composure. Floor two. And whatever the hell you do, don’t, _do not, Blake Tollison Shelton,_ tell them why you have a damn virus on your damn computer.

Third floor. Showtime. God, Blake hates his life.

He swallows all his pride and stares at the three desks and their occupants. Desk #1 is a frowning, thin, red-haired girl who looks completely unforgiving, so scratch that. Desk #2 is a glasses-wearing, overly hair-gelled guy with a _Hunger Games_ shirt on--maybe. And Desk #3 is currently occupied by the hottest, inked-up, punk-looking stud that Blake has ever seen. So hell fucking no.

He makes a beeline for Desk #2, but before he manages to get there, an uppity senior in too high of heels and too big of an attitude, cuts him off and slams her computer down, talking about her password or something. _Fuck_ , Blake thinks and makes a quick decision to go for mean-chick over hot-guy, when hot-guy calls from the side, “Hey, I’m free. I can help you.”

And what is Blake going to say--no thanks, fuck you, don’t look at my computer too hard? Shit. The guy is waving him over and to bail now is even _more_ incriminating than he’s already being--goddammit, Shelton, didn’t we say _not_ to blush?--so Blake slinks his way over to the third desk and sits his laptop gingerly on it.

“Hi,” he squeaks.

Hot guy gives a chuckle and opens his laptop up. “Hi. What’s wrong with it?” He gives it a courtesy restart and then turns it around for Blake when it gets to the password screen. Blake adds another self-lecture to his list--don’t look too deep into the summer warm hazel eyes that hot guy has.

“Virus,” Blake mumbles as he puts in his password.

“Ah. Cool, I’ll get you fixed up. How’d you get it?”

PANIC! Widespread panic! Dammit, Shelton, stop panicking! You got this. _You got this_. Cool as a cucumber. “Shut up,” he tells hot guy and then immediately blushes apple red.

Hot guy raises an eyebrow up into his hairline--his artfully mussed-up hairline--and gives him eyes that could either be incredibly bitchy or incredibly flirty, Blake’s not sure. “Okay, then,” he tells Blake and spins the computer back around, clicks to the main screen and Blake cringes as he waits for the--”WHOA! Hot damn. You really want this twink to eat your ass out?”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Blake hisses and leans all of his six foot five frame over the desk. “It’s a _virus_.”

Hot guy snorts. “Yeah, it’s a virus alright.” He starts to click around and frowns as Max Thrust follows him wherever he goes. “Shit, they really want you to chat, don’t they?”

Blake sighs. “Can you just get it off?”

A couple more clicks and hot guy is shaking his head. “I can, but it’ll take me a bit. I mean, this is hardcore. You kind of had to _want_ this.”

“Can we stop talking about how I got the virus?”

Hot guy shrugs with an aggressively cocky grin to his lips. “Sure thing,” he tells Blake, all shining green eyes, “I mean, we both know it’s cause you got too much porn on here.” More clicks. “Dude, you _know_ your hard drive's almost at the limit, right?”

“Can we _not_ ,” Blake groans, mentally planning his own funeral in his head and praying his mom won’t stand on the pulpit with her handkerchief in hand, sniveling, “My Blake...he just liked cock too much.”

Blake gets a good-natured laugh for his efforts and hot guy motions at the chair by the desk that Blake so far has ignored. “Sit down. This is going to take a moment.”

Blake melts into the chair and while he’s at it chooses to slam his forehead down on the desk. “How long? Not that it matters as I’m about to die of embarrassment.”

“Eh, you know how much porn I see in a day? I mean, not too much barebacking gay rockstar fantasy in which there is use of a guitar, but you know...a lot. You’ll be fine. You won’t die. And I’ll get it spiffied up in no time.”

“Why wasn’t Mr. Hunger Games free?” Blake mutters to himself, but of course hot guy hears it.

“Hey, we both know how to fix things,” he says, frowning defensively.

The words are out of Blake’s mouth faster than he can catch them and shove them back in. “Yeah, but he’s not as hot as you.”

Blake lifts his head from the desk and goes from apple to tomato. He wonders if too much blushing is a medical condition, considering that between the virus, the calling out of his favorite _Rock Into Me Stud_ scene, and now hot guy’s gaze that’s somehow turned into _bedroom eyes_ (or maybe Blake’s been watching too much porn), he’s never been hotter in his life. “Adam,” pretty boy says and wow, when he flickers those eyelashes, you _notice_ them.

“Huh?” Blake answers intelligently.

“My name.” He motions to his nametag--how did Blake miss that?--and gives a little smile. “My name is Adam, you really freaking _weird_ giant oaf.”

“Hey,” Blake tries to combat, but it isn’t filled with any heat, just a nervous kind of mutter, “I’m not a giant.”

“You make me look like a kindergartener and I’m six foot, man.”

Blake grunts and stares at the desk in front of him. “Blake.”

“Blake,” he repeats and Blake shivers at the sound of his name on hot guy--Adam’s--lips.

Adam goes back to Blake’s computer, does a couple wizardy things and then restarts it. “There!” he says in victory, grinning at his success. “No more Max Thrust.” He shuts down the computer and hands it to Blake, shooing him away since there’s started to be a line.

Blake takes his laptop and is rushed out of the IT room and feels strangely disappointed, like the whole encounter was supposed to mean something, but instead turned out anticlimactic and unsatisfying. That is, until he gets back to his dorm room and opens his screen to find his background has been changed to a bold font flashing a phone number at him and “Text me. ;)” with a smaller phrase underneath it saying “Dude, some advice--just do what the rest of us do. Stream and bookmark, man. Stream and bookmark.”

***

Blake makes it to lunchtime before his phone goes off in his pocket, the incoming text way louder than he wanted it to be at the end of his history class. He sinks down in his chair to try and hide his lengthy frame and whips it out, sees an unknown number and the message, _Don’t tell me you haven’t checked your porn machine to make sure it’s working. Why aren’t you texting me?_

Blake rolls his eyes and types back. _Two hours? Really?_

_Can’t help it. I like instant gratification._

_Means you're impatient._

_Says the man who has a CPU full of porn at his fingertips._

_Fuck you._

_That’s what I’m trying to do._

“Mr. Shelton?” Blake’s history professor calls to him and Blake jumps in his seat and drops his phone, watches it clatter to the floor. He opens his mouth to apologize, to answer intricate questions about the life of Alexander Hamilton, to read from the Bill of Rights, but...no one is in the room. His professor gives him a pained smile that hides real humor. “Class ended five minutes ago.”

“...oh,” Blake says weakly and then detangles himself from his chair, grabs his phone and hightails it out of the room before he even bothers to ask if he missed the homework assignment or how in the hell Adam got his number in the first place.

***

Blake forgives Adam for pilfering his phone number from his computer and gives him his dorm address, planning to meet up after Adam’s last class ends at six and being thankful that his roommate practices never been home like it’s a religion. And since Blake is done with everything he needs to do for the day by three thirty, it means he has two and a half hours to anxiously pace his room and then try to swallow down the bland cafeteria food while _not_ thinking about how Adam said he wanted to fuck him and about how Blake has lot of visual experience about gay activities, but no actual, real-life experience.

This morning, Blake was supremely unaware that March 12th was the day he was going to lose his gay virginity. Fuck. Only that’s what he’s about to do.

He sweats it out so much that he decides he has to take a quick shower just to get the smell of fear and excitement off his skin. But even given that, he has twenty minutes left to kill before the hour in question. He manages to talk himself out of rewatching _Studio Ass-ets_ featuring Girth McHardy or _Come Ballin’_ with Rock Lickim under the guise of research and instead lays on his bed, fiddling with his fingers and encouraging his dick to both not shrink in fear and not get too excited too embarrassingly quick.

At 6:07--just enough time that Blake has his fingers hovering over his phone keys, a _do you not like me?!?_ ready at his fingertips--there’s a knock on his door.

Blake nearly falls over himself getting to the door and flings it open before remembering he’s supposed to act cool. He leans in the doorway and takes in the sight in front of him. Adam is standing there, a beautiful little intimate smile on his mouth, his backpack slung over one shoulder with his hand on the strap, and his eyes alight. He’s not wearing the clothes he was before, but instead has changed into a Nirvana T-shirt and tight, dark jeans that make Blake’s mouth water.

Adam lifts his fingers from his backpack and gives Adam a little wave. “Hey, Cutie.” All of Blake’s insides turn to mush and he tells himself to slap the stupid, schoolgirl smile he has off his face.

“Hi,” he says with a little eyeroll and a shuffling foot he will be ashamed about until the day he dies.

“Can I come in?” Adam asks and Blake nods, jumping out of the doorway and wishing that Adam hadn’t put that last word on his sentence. But Adam grins at him and all thoughts fade away. He walks inside and tosses his backpack by the bed and Blake barely has time to close his door before Adam is pushing him against it and there are lips on his lips and a hard, hot body pressed to his chest.

“Oh my god,” he groans into Adam’s mouth and Adam smiles against him, licks his way inside and kisses him all edgy, with a focused, determined kind of passion. Blake shivers and submits to the power of Adam’s lips, to Adam’s tongue dancing with his own, fucking his mouth open in mock thrusts that Blake is hoping one of them will feel in a minute.

Adam moves his mouth down, kisses Blake’s jawline and then nips at it, works his way to his ear and bites down on the earlobe. “Sorry I didn’t bring my guitar,” he growls into Blake’s ear and Blake’s eyes roll back into his head.

“You have a _guitar_?” Blake squeaks.

“Yeah,” Adam chuckles and puts his lips right there, his breath tickling Blake’s skin as he whispers into his ear. “I’m in a band.”

“Shut up,” Blake groans at him, even as his jeans get tighter, his hips tick up into Adam’s body.

“I am,” Adam chuckles. “Lead guitarist. I’m a singer, too.” He kisses Blake’s ear. “Rather hear you scream, though. When you’re balls deep in me.”

Blake’s knees nearly give way under him. “You’re trying to kill me,” he whines. “You are _actively_ trying to kill me. Why else would you be doing this? You’re _way_ too hot for me.”

“Hey, Blake,” Adam laughs. “ _Shut up_.” He pulls back and grins at him. “You’re cute as a button, you know that? And don’t get me started on those eyes of yours. Couldn’t stop thinking about them after this morning. Like you gave _me_ a virus.” He chuckles. “Better to look at than Max Thrust, if I do say so myself.”

Blake lowers his eyes in shyness. “You...thought about me?”

“Yeah,” Adam whispers and puts his lips right next to Blake’s mouth again. “All day.” He kisses him again, slower this time, the press of their lips sinful like skipping class, like the second Snickers bar, like a chocolate shake in the middle of winter. Blake moans, letting his lips fall back open and Adam’s tongue sweeps inside, slow and sensual turning to dirty and deep. Adam’s hands run down Blake’s body, starting at his neck and ghosting over shoulders, his chest, his stomach, until his fingers hook into Blake’s belt and he starts pulling him backwards.

Blake stumbles with him, still kissing until they get to the bed and Adam turns them gently, pushes Blake onto his back and then crawls over him, straddles him, and rolls his hips down into Blake’s groin like the very definition of a god. “You’re going to fuck me,” Adam tells him with a wicked grin, his hands on Blake’s still-clothed chest. “And it’s going to be _way_ better than porn.”

Blake groans, his dick already definitely sure that the slow, friction glide of Adam on top of him is better than anything he’s ever seen before. Adam smiles at him, slow and sexy and reaches down into his bag, digs out a little bottle and tosses it on Blake’s chest. Blake grunts and picks it up. _Lube_. Fuck, he’s glad Adam is prepared because he hasn’t thought that far through the haze of _I’m going to have sex with hot guy._

“You clean?” Adam asks and Blake blinks, turning back to him and just seeing Adam’s shirt clear his head as he takes it off, tosses it in the corner. Blake swallows at the new skin available to him, the intricate ink rolling over Adam’s chest and making Blake’s mouth water with a desire to _lick_.

“What?” he mumbles.

“You _clean_ ,” Adam asks and raises an eyebrow in expectation. “You need a condom?” He tugs at Blake’s shirt and Blake is still too caught up in the roll of Adam’s muscles to help him as he takes it off.

“Oh!” Blake finally catches on, blushing. “I’ve never…I’ve never...with a guy. And the last girl was in high school and...yeah. I’m clean.”

“Good,” Adam says with a grin, his hands deft on Blake’s belt now, sliding it open and going for the button on his jeans. “Lucky for you, I got tested two weeks back and I haven’t set my eyes on anyone in awhile.” He shrugs. “But you’re special. And…” Adam chuckles wickedly and licks his lips, leaning down into Blake’s personal space, their noses sliding together like tectonic plates building friction. “...that means you get to live out one of your fantasies.”

“Fantasies?” Blake squeaks.

“Barebacking,” Adam tells him with a click to his tongue and a crinkle of a smile to his eyes. Blake nearly comes in his pants it’s so unfair.

Adam leans up and off him and starts tugging at Blake’s pants and Blake has enough of a brain still left in him to lift his hips and help him. Adam slides them down off his legs and tosses them away, takes off his socks, too, and adds them to the pile. And then he goes for his own jeans’ button and Blake gets lost in the visual of himself spread out before Adam, cock hard and erect in the air, Adam leaned up over him, sparkling hazel eyes and hands on his jeans, breath coming fast and rising his chest. Adam sees him watching and lets out a breathless laugh, his face lighting up with sincere joy and Blake blinks in the face of it all, changes Adam’s nickname from hot guy to hot, interesting guy and as Adam shucks the rest of his clothing and straddles back down onto him, naked skin to naked, glistening skin, Blake has a striking thought that he doesn’t _just_ want to fuck Adam, doesn’t _just_ want to be buried in him and see him stretched out above him, but that he might want to _date_ Adam, too. Might want to hear him laugh. Might want to listen to him play, listen to him sing, swap iPod playlists and generally hang out with the guy. And doesn’t that just knock his socks off.

“Distracted?” Adam asks and lets his body experimentally roll forward. “Come back to me, baby.”

“You’re perfect,” Blake whispers as his hands go to Adam’s hips and he basks in the bright smile Adam casts down to him.

“Will be more perfect in a second,” he answers. “You want to fix me up or you want me to do it?”

“Oh, fuck,” Blake groans, “ _I want to do it_.”

Adam laughs and nods at the bottle again and Blake picks it up quick, pops it open and pours a good amount onto his hands. Adam lifts his hips to give Blake just enough room to work and Blake grunts, angles his own body upward so that he can kiss Adam while he pushes the first finger inside.

Adam moans into his mouth and it’s the sexiest thing Blake has ever heard and so he pushes his finger in further, starts to ever so slowly fuck Adam with it just so he can hear the whimpers come out of his mouth, see his brow furrow, and feel the sweep of Adam’s tongue dancing with Blake’s own to the rhythm.

“More,” Adam breathes against him and Blake obliges, adds a second finger to the mix and moves them in, spends a good time searching until he finds the button inside of Adam that makes him buck on Blake’s lap and gasp. “ _Motherfucker_ ,” Adam hisses out and Blake chuckles.

“Good,” he tells Adam. “I want you to be as desperate for me as I am for you.”

“Well, _you got it_ ,” Adam tells him with a groan. “Or don’t you see my rock hard cock?”

Blake glances down between them to it and starts to reach. “Want me to touch it?”

“ _No_ ,” Adam tells him sharply. “Fuck, I’m going to come just like this. You shouldn’t be this sexy. You should _not_ be this fucking sexy.” And then Adam is kissing him again, hard and hot and passionate and Blake’s fingers in him begin to scissor until Adam is whimpering that he’s ready and spreading his legs on Blake’s lap.

Blake groans and runs his other hand over Adam’s knee and then up to his thigh, his fingers splayed on flesh. He runs a finger lightly on the underside of Adam’s cock and Adam twitches before Blake reaches back behind them, takes hold of himself and, sliding his fingers out in the same motion that he guides himself in with his other hand, finally breaches Adam’s entrance.

Adam throws his head back and moans loudly into the room and Blake wonders if it’ll be Blake screaming or if maybe Adam gave him a prophecy about himself. “Fuck,” Adam is whining, high and desperate and hot. Blake whines with him, his cock tight in Adam’s ass, twitching for something harder, deeper, _more_.

Blake kisses Adam’s jaw and starts moving his lips down just as Adam wraps his arms around Blake’s neck and starts moving, starts lifting himself up and then down, off and then back on, each time sinking a little farther down on Blake, bringing him in deep. Blake’s mouth goes over Adam’s throat, lingers on his collarbone, his tongue splays on his chest over his tattoos, and then he gets to Adam’s nipple, sucks it in and lets his teeth scrape it lightly. Adam cries out with it, his hands sinking into Blake’s back and his nails digging in. He lifts himself up and slams down faster and Blake moans wantonly at the feel of it, reaching between them to take hold of Adam in his hands.

Adam is panting now and he digs fingers in Blake’s hair, pulls him off so they can look in each other’s eyes. “Oh, god, Blake,” Adam moans and Blake has never heard anything that sounds more clear, more righteous, more _perfect_. “God, fuck me,” he whines and puts his mouth next to Blake’s, their noses together, his breath gathered as he still talks, as he still fucks himself down on Blake and then up into his hand.

“I…” Blake whimpers and swallows so he can keep talking. “I don’t think I can pull out…”

“No,” Adam groans. “No, you’re not going to. I said...I meant...” He gasps as Blake’s dick finds the spot within him and Blake feels Adam’s cock twitch in his hand. “Come in me.”

“I want to throw you down,” Blake growls.

“ _Yes_ ,” Adam cries, his hands all over Blake, his body surrounding Blake.

“I want to fuck you hard.”

“ _Yes_.”

“Make you mine.”

“ _Yes!”_ Adam throws his head back and screams loudly for the whole dorm to hear. “Better than porn!”

“Better than porn!” Blake agrees and then wraps his arm around Adam’s back, tosses him to the side and rolls over on top of him, slamming back in with abandon. Adam screams again and Blake doesn’t give a fuck that half the campus now knows he’s as a gay as rainbow flying kite because Adam under him is perfection. The feel of his ass, the sounds he’s making, the rise of his chest in a gasp, the dig of his nails in Blake’s skin. Blake hits home, over and over again, and Adam falls apart under him until the only coherent sound out of his mouth is Blake’s name and Blake returns the sentiment, saying “Adam, Adam, _Adam_ ,” over again as one hand clutches the headboard, the other on Adam’s cock and he hits him again and again, thrusts into him hard and all the way, the sound of the bed and flesh coming together hot in his ears.

“Come in me,” Adam whimpers again and Blake stares down into his eyes, the green retreating from the pupils, before he flicks his gaze to Adam’s lips, swollen from kissing, parted with breath. He kisses him again, deep and with all the feeling he can muster before he slows down, goes deep, but hard, slamming Adam up further on the bed and twisting his wrist just right. Adam starts tightening. Blake can feel it in his muscles under him, his ass as he clenches, the start of a rise to his back. He knows Adam is holding off, knows Adam is waiting for _him_ and it’s hotter than anything Blake has ever seen. Better than Max, than Girth, than Rock, than _anyone_ and he might as well toss his computer in the trash for all the good it will do him because this image right here, this feeling right now...this will be his spank bank for life.

Adam’s fingernails twitch down his back, leave little marks as they go and Blake’s skin rises into them. Adam’s ass clenched around him, his tongue deft in his mouth, and all it takes is one, two, three more deep thrusts before Blake feels himself crash like a waterfall, feels his body lose all control to the burning picture of hazel eyes behind his closed eyelids and he twitches in Adam, floods him, finishes deep inside and pushes himself in as far as he can to keep it all there and Adam’s lips fall apart from his in the most dirty, sinful, low and loud moan that Blake has ever heard.

And then Adam is coming, his ass tightening as it grips Blake and his come splashing between them on their bare skin and Blake watches it, pants for it, rocks with Adam until they’re both spent, until there’s nothing left but the hollow, happy murmur of their bodies and the slow pull of Blake as he removes himself and collapses to the side.

“Holy,” Blake gasps, “ _fuck_ ” and Adam chuckles at him, but grunts his agreement. They stay there for a long while, two bodies heaving as they return to stillness, the ceiling above them capturing all their attention.

Blake licks his lips after a while and rolls his head slowly over to Adam and bumps his side until Adam returns the gaze. “Think…” Blake starts and then blushes again despite how he has no right to blush now that he’s been deep inside Adam. “Think my computer...is kind of slow these days. I might...bring it in tomorrow. Have you take a look at it.”

Blake steals a look over at Adam from under his eyelashes and finds Adam grinning back at him. “Sure,” Adam says and rolls over onto his side, kissing Blake’s shoulder. “I mean, slow computer. That’s the fucking worst. Can’t leave you like that. And, you know, it’ll probably take a while to check. So you better plan for the afternoon and probably dinner, too. I mean, you should block it off just in case.”

Blake chuckles at him and leans up, searches for Adam’s mouth until Adam leans over and gives it to him, easily licking his way inside. “So much better than Max Thrust,” Blake mutters into his mouth until they both fall into giggles right there in Blake’s bed, his porn drenched computer not too far away on the desk, and the idea of 307 Diggs Hall now sounding strangely like heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first Shevine! Tell me what you think! I'm also working on a longer A/B/O fic (Omega!Blake and Alpha!Adam).


End file.
